


patience is a virtue (that i don't have)

by goldhorn (englishsummerrain)



Series: all the little things [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Exhibitionism, FaceFucking, Library Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:08:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22253917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/englishsummerrain/pseuds/goldhorn
Summary: What's the point of college if you don't have a little fun?
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Zhong Chen Le
Series: all the little things [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1602496
Comments: 4
Kudos: 154





	patience is a virtue (that i don't have)

**Author's Note:**

> Is this a thing now? Is this a series now? Who knows.

Jeno swore he hadn’t meant for it to end up like this—but ever since he and Chenle had fucked there had been some kind of spark lit within him. They were just horny college boys at the end of it all, and both of them were so eager. Both of them were so needy. It was hard working around the schedules of Jeno's roommates, but the two of them made it work—mostly due to Jeno's frantic texting to Jaemin to not come home if Chenle was over.

And God—did they fuck. At this point Jeno's pretty sure he's spent more time on the mattress than standing in the past few weeks. If there's a chance for it, Chenle is kissing him, and if he isn't kissing him his cock is in his ass, and Jeno's being driven absolutely fucking wild. 

He's a bit of a cockslut at this point, he's realised. Jeno is hungry for cock—practically begging for it—and willing to drop to his knees in a bathroom stall to get more. Down here, staring up with Chenle’s cock in his mouth, Chenle had given him the dopiest smile—the smile Jeno had come to love, the one that only he got see because it was the result of Chenle just being  _ high _ off sex. It was something Jeno craved, that made him feel good in a way no other thing could. It helped ease the need in him, took the edge off but didn't quite satiate it.

Sucking off, of course, turned into fucking. Jeno with his boxers hiked up, shoved to the side so Chenle could fuck him through them. His hands against the wall and Chenle’s arm around his waist, holding him up so he didn't collapse when he came, so he didn't fold in two even as he begged for Chenle to fuck him harder, to touch him. All gasps and pants and an absolute burning neediness for more, more, more. One time, mid stroke, someone had come into the bathroom and Jeno had just had to  _ stand there _ , Chenle buried balls deep in his ass while the guy peed and checked his phone for what seemed like an eternity.

That was something else. A discovery. Chenle’s fingers in his mouth to stop him from whimpering, the thrill that sung through his blood at the idea that they could be caught at any moment, stupid horny boys fucking in a bathroom because they couldn’t get enough of each other. Jeno wanted more. He wanted the danger. 

It was the discovery that Chenle had been curating quite the list of things he wanted to try out. 

This here was something to be ticked off. A few things.

One: the glasses stay on during sex—because, in Chenle's words—"There's just something sexy about a boy in glasses."

Two: a repeat of the bathroom, but worse. But riskier. Chenle works part time at the college library, and is only too willing to show Jeno all the spots he’s caught couples screwing in the stacks. All the spots no-one ever checks. And so at six pm, when the night classes filter out and most students are catching dinner, Chenle leads him down the bookshelves on the fourth floor, past the foreign language dictionaries and collections of Spanish newspapers, to a corner where the rows are so thin they have to walk single file. 

“No-one comes down here,” he says, and hooks a finger under Jeno’s chin. They practically stand eye to eye, but it’s more about the effect—the lust that flashes in Chenle’s eyes. The want and the way it hits Jeno, makes his legs weak and his entire mind shut down. 

Chenle kisses him, gentle. His lips are always so soft, something Jeno never gets used to after kissing Jaemin’s chapped lips for so long. His hand holds his jaw and his other sits on his hip, holds him close. It’s dusty where they’re standing, but there’s a huge window beside them, streetlights streaming through, spots of gold and red painted against the worn carpet. Jeno has to be careful kissing with his glasses on, tries not to bump them against Chenle’s nose.

Chenle’s hands roam. Press flat against his stomach. 

"You're so pretty," he says. Jeno doesn't know what to say to that. He's not good at compliments—being horny just makes it worse. Chenle likes to shower him in compliments, and tease him all the same. All warm affection oozing from him. 

His fingers curl in the fabric of Jeno's shirt and he tugs him, causing the kiss to break. "Gonna look even prettier being fucked," Chenle says, and Jeno nods, enthusiastic, heat flashing through him, cock twitching where it's trapped in his pants. He wants it. He wants it so bad. Had fingered himself this morning, thinking about Chenle's hands, about his cock. 

It's all he really ever thought about now.

Jeno drops to his knees and undoes the clasp on Chenle's jeans, smiles up at him through the city lights and winking helicopters doing rounds in the night sky. He pulls his cock from his boxers and does what he loves, what he wished he could have done to Chenle that first night.

He's a blessed boy, you see, our Lee Jeno. Being born without a gag reflex makes it easy to force Chenle's cock down his throat, to have him fuck his face as he grabs his ass to pull him closer. His hips snap and roll and Jeno loves it, lives for it, the pull off Chenle's hands in his hair, the little moans he lets out. How he calls Jeno so pretty. Jeno's gagging for it, needy for it, to have this and more and see just how much he affects Chenle. It's a little intoxicating, but Jeno did always have an addictive personality.

He pulls off with a wet slurp, much too loud for a library. Had forgotten just for a second where they were, that someone could come through at any time. The thought sends a shiver through him—the idea of someone seeing him practically gagging on Chenle's cock enough to create a full body tremor that leads straight to his dick.

"You look so hot," Chenle says, and Jeno smiles up at him, hand wrapped around the base of his cock, tongue running along the underside in lavish licks. 

Chenle's hand is back on his head, pushing him forward again. He sucks his cock back into his mouth, lips open wide as Chenle fucks his face. The noise is obscene and wet and Jeno digs his hands into Chenle's ass, pulls him forward and takes a deep breath through his nose, just feels the sensation of having his mouth filled, of having the head of his cock resting in his throat. 

When pulls off there's spit everywhere, but it doesn't stop Chenle from kissing him, deep and fast, tongue in his mouth, body pushing against his. He has as little self control as Jeno—is so good at matching him—and he paws at his chest for a second before reaching in to his pockets.

He turns Jeno around, so he's facing the window, and down below he can see people scurrying through the campus, bundled up in winter coats and carrying steaming hot coffee cups. There's still a few patches of snow on the roofs and the trees are stripped bare, skeletal fingers of branches swaying in the wind. He feels naked and yet invisible. Excited. Chenle's hands on his belt, pulling his pants down his thighs—aroused.

He slips into him with ease, Jeno still loose from being fucked twice the day before. He lets out a soft gasp and his forehead falls against the windowpane.

"You feel so good," Chenle says, voice a whisper. Holds still. Leads them to here—to where he’s just  _ sitting,  _ buried inside Jeno, just holding him there. They’ve done this before, of course. Watching movies together, when Chenle had suggested just sticking his cock in Jeno’s ass and waiting. Clearly the only endgame was Jeno going absolutely mad and begging to be fucked, and he really hoped that wasn’t what Chenle was aiming for right now. 

Chenle wasn’t mean, or particularly dominant for that matter, but he’d been forced to adapt due to just how submissive Jeno was. How he just folded as soon as he kissed him, how he craved pleasing him. How it drove Jeno  _ wild _ to be told what to do, to be teased until he begged for it, cock leaking and hard in his pants, whole body arcing towards Chenle.

"You do too. Love your cock. How it feels inside me. You fuck me so good."

Chenle leans in, body to body, thrusting slowly, his breath hot against Jeno's ear. Sweet movement, the drag inside of him. "Yeah?"

Jeno lives for praise, but Chenle's no slouch either. He’s learned that Jeno will dish it out, lay it on until his voice becomes nothing, until his words becomes babble, whatever thoughts come to the forefront of his mind, his filter severed.

"I've been thinking about this all day," Jeno says. Chenle's hips jerk in a stuttering thrust and his forehead hits the glass, again, again, cold impression against his skin. A dull thud he thinks someone must have heard. “Thinking about touching you. About having you inside me again.”

Laughter in his ear, Chenle’s hands roaming, one on his hip, dipped under the fabric of his pants, while the other runs up his arm and squeezes at his bicep. His touch is wild, molten, burning into Jeno, and he starts to fuck him, slow for the first few thrusts and then moving faster, bolder, the way he knows Jeno likes it. 

“I want you to use me,” Jeno had told him, when they’d been lying in bed together, just kissing without any aim. Chenle’s eyes had gone wide, and they’d had to dial it back a bit. He was still too sweet on Jeno for that, too sweet to push it far, and Jeno understood. The scariness of asking in the first place had almost crushed him, but Chenle was understanding. Hand on his face, pressing kisses to his lips. They’d learn together.

They were still learning.

Chenle’s fingers burn against his hip. "Remember we have to be quiet. It's a library, Jeno."

"I know,” he lowers his voice, and it trembles through him. There’s a slick sound, wetness, lube, Jeno being fucked. The grip on his arm is released and Chenle’s warmth leaves him as he leans back, a finger running against where Jeno’s hole is stretched around him.

“You look so good,” Chenle says. Murmurs something in Chinese, the foreign words sounding unbelievably sexy on his tongue. “Look so good getting fucked, Jeno.”

Jeno knows. He really does. He  _ feels _ fucking amazing too.

“I wish you could see the way you look with my cock inside you.”

His next thrust is strong, an audible slap of skin on skin, and the next, and the next. Someone must know, surely. Someone must be able to hear them, the way Jeno can’t help but gasp. All the people on the footpath below, students who must be browsing the stacks. The long dead authors of the 19th century Spanish history novels that rose around them. Someone must be looking for Chenle, wasn’t he working?

Chenle palms at him, fingers teasing the length of his cock—and all that goes out the window. Jeno’s mind re-calibrates itself, refocuses on his touch. Chenle’s thrusts are less audible now, but they’re still fast, still rough enough that it makes Jeno shiver with want. He needs this. He needs it so fucking badly. The window fogs with his breath and he stutters out Chenle’s name, asks for more. 

“Such a good boy,” Chenle says, and it’s hesitant—he’s still not sure of himself—but it drives Jeno  _ wild _ . He  _ bites _ down on his tongue and stifles the moan that threatens to fall from his lips, curls his fingers where they’re braced against the window. It’s enough encouragement, apparently, because Chenle is bolder. Leans into him and speaks close to ear.

“My good boy.”

His mouth is wet against Jeno’s neck, pressing kisses into his skin, and that’s it. That’s all Jeno needs. Chenle’s barely touched him and he’s gasping—shuddering as he comes, clenching around Chenle’s cock and spilling all over his hand. 

“Holy fuck,” Chenle says—and he’s still fucking him, still going through the aftershocks, clutching on to Jeno with his cum smeared hand to hold him up as Jeno’s legs go wobbly. There’s an edge of overstimulation creeping in, something that sears along the edge of his senses, and starts to burn, and Jeno is just at the point of telling Chenle to pull out when he lets out a whimpering moan. His thrusts become uneven and desperate and he pushes himself deeper, until he’s buried to the hilt inside Jeno, draped across his spine as his orgasm rocks through him.

  
  
  
  
  


“I’m going to get fucking fired,” Chenle says. They’ve thrown the condom into the bathroom trash and cleaned up, but the two of them still stink of sex, and privately Jeno wonders if it’s true.

“You’ll be fine,” he says, instead. Squeezes his hand and flashes him a smile. His legs are still a little weak but he’s swimming in the post orgasmic glow—they both are. On Chenle it looks radiant, sweet like sunset light even in the cold darkness of the winter night.

Chenle laughs, breath frosting in front of him, eyes crinkling with happiness. The warmth he exudes in Jeno’s presence is so comforting, and Jeno forgets for a second he’s the one offering reassurances, not the other way around. 

“But maybe not somewhere so quiet next time,” Jeno adds. Chenle nods.

“Yeah. That was a bit too much. Little worried we traumatised someone.”

“Sorry to anyone who needed their Spanish dictionaries,” Jeno says. Chenle laughs again, lets go of his hand to throw his arm around his shoulders and pull him close. He presses a kiss to his cheek, lips warm against Jeno’s skin. 

“It’s fine. We’re fine. But we’re not fucking in the library again.”

“Okay,” Jeno agrees. The city is twinkling, bare trees in the park hung up with Christmas lights, tinsel on the streetlamps, glowing baubles in the gardens that run alongside the sidewalk, and the lightest dusting of snow is starting to fall.

“What’s next on your list?” Jeno asks, pulling his scarf a little tighter around his neck.

Chenle shrugs, fishing his mittens out of his jacket pocket.

“I’ve got some ideas,” he says. He wiggles his fingers, like a cartoon thief about to steal a diamond.

“Share?”

The smile Chenle gives him is the picture of innocence, the sweetness of youth. A filthy lie. 

“Guess you’ll just have to wait to find out.”


End file.
